Master of His Fate

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  Sebastian liked this chance to speak longer to his friends, share confidences and ideas, and he moved around the room leisurely, a brandy balloon in his hand.

  Alexis watched him closely, unable to take her eyes off him, thinking how handsome he looked. He favored the color gray in many of his clothes, and tonight he wore a dove-gray suit, beautifully tailored and obviously an expensive item from Savile Row. The color suited him, and the cut of the jacket made him look slimmer and taller than he already was. There was no question in her mind that he was the most elegant of men.

  It was Lord Reginald who intruded on her thoughts, when he sat down next to her on the sofa. “May I join you, Alexis?”

  “Of course,” she answered quickly, smiling at him. “I was glad to hear from Claudia that your daughter, Jasmine, listened to her and has promised to stop lacing herself so tightly.”

  “Indeed she has, and her mother and I are truly grateful.” He laughed lightly. “That was quite a brilliant idea you had, suggesting that Claudia should tell Jasmine that tightly bound waists were out of fashion and the crinoline was as dead as a doornail. Now, the chicest gowns are plain, simple, and without a bustle.”

  Alexis laughed with him, and explained, “It wasn’t an invention on my part, Lord Reginald. It happens to be the truth. I for one am very pleased. I like this new style in gowns, and certainly they are more comfortable to wear. I can assure you of that.”

  Lord Reginald nodded and sat back, turning toward her slightly. In a low voice he said, “He means a lot to me, you know. Don’t break his heart, will you? I couldn’t bear it.”

  Momentarily startled at this intimate comment, Alexis stared at him for a split second, and then answered softly, “I love him with all my heart and soul, and may God strike me dead if I hurt him in any way. Which I won’t, I promise you that.”

  “I think I know that already, my dear. I’ve worried about him for years … he has lived a lonely life, that I can attest to, I’m afraid. You make him happy—”

  “What are you two chatting away about?” Sebastian asked, coming to a stop in front of them. “I do hope you’re telling her nice things about me, old chap. I’d appreciate it if you sang my praises to her … all the time.”

  Alexis said, “He was doing just that, although no one needs to tell me what a wonderful person you are. I’ve known that since the moment I met you, Sebastian.”

  Smiling, his eyes now leaving her face, Sebastian sat down on the arm of the sofa and touched her shoulder gently. Looking at Reginald, he said, “Tell my lovely friend what a surprise she’s going to have when she sees Goldenhurst.”

  Slightly taken aback, Reginald exclaimed, “Oh yes, you are indeed, Alexis. It’s a most unique place. Right in the heart of Kent, near the Romney Marsh. And the gardens will take your breath away.” Giving Sebastian a quick glance, he asked with a certain eagerness, “When are you planning to go there?”

  Sebastian shrugged lightly, almost dismissively. “I don’t know yet. It’s not really been planned, although I have told Alexis quite a lot about the farm.”

  “If you want company, I’d love to join you—” Reggie began, and stopped abruptly when he saw the look of horror on Sebastian’s face. “Ah, I see. Of course.” A smile spread across his face. “You wish to show your little gem to Alexis on your own. I do understand.”

  Sebastian couldn’t help laughing, and rising, he toasted the two of them with his cognac and moved across the room to speak to Cornelius, who would one day be his son-in-law. He liked the young man Claudia had chosen, and hoped he loved her the way he loved Alexis.

  Nineteen

  Sebastian went to Kent on Saturday morning, and he took Alexis with him. They went alone. Claudia and Cornelius would follow later in the day.

  It was important to Sebastian that he show Alexis the farm alone, without others present, because it meant so much to him.

  In a sense, he wanted her to fully understand the work and effort he had put into it to make it what it had become. His haven. He needed her to love it, to enjoy it as much as he did. For a very simple reason. He intended to make her part of his life forever, and they would share that house. It would be their haven.

  They drove to Kent in his brougham because he liked the four-wheel, boxlike carriage with the driver on the outside. It was roomy, comfortable, and could easily carry four people if necessary.

  The two of them sat next to each other on the backseat, facing the way they were going. Occasionally they looked at each other and smiled, held hands, and chatted about his friends she had met on Thursday evening. She told him how much she had liked Cornelius Glendenning, and he had looked pleased, quizzed her a little about his daughter’s future husband.

  As usual, the time passed quickly when they were together. At one moment she said, “I’ve never been to Kent before, but we look as if we are going in the direction of the Thames estuary.”

  Sebastian glanced at her, nodded. “That’s right. We’re actually heading for the Strait of Dover. And on the way to Maidstone, which, as you no doubt know, is the county town. Eventually we’ll be crossing the North Downs, which are very chalky, and then the Weald. As I told you, Aldington is the little village where Goldenhurst sits. You won’t be far from Romney Marsh, and I think you’ll love the Marsh as much as I do.”

  “I’m sure of that, since we do seem to like the same things. I have a friend who also favors Kent, Sebastian. She works in my office and goes to visit an aunt who lives on the Isle of Sheppey.”

  “Ah, yes. That’s separated from the north coast by the narrow River Swale, which is why it’s called an isle, I suppose.”

  Turning toward him, she now looked at him intently and asked, “Why do you love Kent so much?” She was genuinely curious to know everything about him, desiring to understand this complex, unique man.

  He did not answer her, sat staring out of the window. His silence prompted her to press him. “Does it have to do with your childhood? Does it go back in time?”

  “No, it doesn’t. Well, not really,” he finally answered. “I fell in love with the place when I was eighteen. I went with a school friend to visit his family home, a manor near Maidstone. There was something about the Kentish landscape that was so beautiful, I was utterly captivated. The sky appeared to be high-flung and soaring, a giant stretch of blue, and the landscape was truly pastoral, such lush meadows and fields, the glorious woods. I remember feeling very calm there, somehow … content. I think that’s the best word to use. I felt contentment.”

  “So why didn’t you buy a house there before? I mean earlier in your life?” she asked, frowning.

  “Because I have a family home near Cirencester, in Gloucestershire, one which has been in the Trevalian family for several hundred years. I inherited it on my father’s death, and I do go there quite frequently. It is a huge part of my heritage, and I did grow up there. However, this farm is mine.”

  “And you’ve created something very special, I expect,” Alexis murmured, and reached out, took his hand in hers.

  He inclined his head, smiled at her. “How well you already know me. I turned it into a special place, where I could be entirely myself, if you will. I relax there, potter around, and lead a more casual lifestyle.”

  “I’m sure it’s very different from a grand stately home; that’s something else altogether. And what is it called, your big grand house?” she wondered out loud, laughter echoing in her voice.

  “Courtland Priory, but everyone refers to it as Courtland.” He chuckled and squeezed her hand. “I shall take you there soon, and you of all people will understand how I feel about it. You see, it’s rather a grand place and we’d have to be ever so proper.”

  She laughed with him, loving the way he teased her, and rested her head against his shoulder. He looked down at her, and said, softly, “I’m so happy you wandered into my life and so unexpectedly. It was exactly at the right time.”

  * * *

  Halfway to Goldenhurst, Sebast
ian opened the wicker hamper his housekeeper had prepared, and they shared a selection of small tea sandwiches filled with smoked salmon, cucumber, tomatoes, egg salad, and ham. There were slices of fruit cake, and two flasks filled with hot tea.

  As they ate the sandwiches, Alexis confessed, “I didn’t know much about Kent, so I looked it up in my encyclopedia. I hadn’t realized how really ancient it is, that the Romans were there and built many roads, and that there was an Archbishop of Canterbury long before the Conquest.”

  “That’s right, and there were so many different races plunging across Kent at different times, invaders and plunderers. As you’re well aware, Dover is the gateway to the Continent.” He sat up suddenly, his eyes sparkling. “You know, my darling girl, I shall take you to see the most wondrous place in the world—”

  “And where’s that?” she cut in. “In Kent, I expect.”

  “Correct. The White Cliffs of Dover, of course, and something to behold.”

  * * *

  It was when they were finally approaching Aldington that Alexis asked quietly, “Do you have a lot of servants at Goldenhurst, Sebastian?” She suddenly felt self-conscious, arriving without Claudia.

  “No, I don’t. I don’t want to be top-heavy with people in the house. There is the housekeeper, Mrs. Bellamy; a housemaid, Eliza; and Broadbent. He’s…” Sebastian lifted his hands in the air, shrugged, and started to laugh. “I think I can best describe him as … a general factotum. He’s a butler, a valet, a chef. He does everything, actually, and loves every moment of it. Naturally, he rules the roost. But everyone secretly loves him despite his bossy ways.”

  “And do you think I will feel the same way?” She eyed him coquettishly.

  “I do. Broadbent will be happy to serve you in any way he can.” A small sigh escaped. “Talking of being top-heavy with people, I do have quite a few gardeners. However, when we arrive you’ll understand why.”

  Before she could reply, Sebastian took hold of her arm tightly and exclaimed, “Look, over there, the gates to my farm! We’ll be there in a few minutes. It’s a long driveway, but rather charming I think … bluebell woods like you’ve never seen.”

  Twenty

  The gates to Goldenhurst were quite plain, made of black iron with no ornate decoration at all. Alexis realized it would have been easy to ride on without noticing them, they were so understated. Immediately she understood that he had done this on purpose.

  The driveway up to the farm was somewhat statelier in comparison. The woods on either side of the wide gravel road were lush with trees, but no shimmering bluebells in sight … it was the wrong time of year.

  Sebastian was silent as the carriage rumbled on up the drive, and so was she. The self-conscious feeling she had experienced minutes ago was slithering through her yet again. She felt decidedly odd to be arriving on the arm of Sebastian Trevalian, and not with his daughter Claudia.

  What would the staff think? How would they perceive her? Anyway, why did it matter, really? She supposed they didn’t care; otherwise he would not have put her in such an awkward position. He was too much the gentleman to do that, expose her to criticism.

  He broke into her thoughts when he said, “Well, here we are. It is a rather odd-looking place, I must admit.”

  The carriage had come to a stop not far from the front door. She hardly had a chance to look out of the carriage window before the door was opened by Hamm, the head driver in Sebastian’s employment. Hamm helped her down the steps, with Sebastian following swiftly after her. Through the corner of her eye she noticed a pond not far away, off to her right, with ducks floating on it, swimming in circles.

  What she also saw was an ordinary series of buildings linked together to create a plain, old-fashioned farmhouse, with the usual windows, doors, and chimneys. He had said it was built in the seventeenth century, and it did indeed look old. Nonetheless, there was no architectural merit to it. That didn’t matter to her, because he loved it, and therefore she would too.

  “So, what do you think?” he asked, walking over to her.

  “It’s plain, as you said, but I love the tiled roof, and because it’s somewhat low and elongated, it has a sort of … Tudor look to it.” When he made no response, she murmured, “That’s what I think, anyway.”

  He smiled inside. Trust Alexis to come up with the fanciful idea of Tudor, to make him feel better. He said, “I bought the farm for the land, one hundred and thirty-nine acres to be exact. Wonderful land, as you’ll soon see, and also for the views of the Marsh. And, on a clear night, the lights on the French coastline. But come along, you must meet Mrs. Bellamy and Broadbent, who are waiting on the front steps.”

  Taking hold of his arm she pulled him back, asked in a worried voice, “Who do they think I am?”

  “Alexis Malvern,” he answered, a brow lifting in obvious surprise.

  “I mean in relationship to you.”

  “They know I’m the father of your friend, Claudia, who’ll be arriving later. I am also their employer and it’s not their place to wonder about anything I do, or whom I bring here.”

  When she was silent, he smiled down at her and added softly, “Please don’t worry about any judgments being made about you. They don’t care. You’re my guest and they’ll treat you like the lady you are.” He glanced across at Hamm, already handling the baggage. “Broadbent will help you, Hamm, and I won’t be needing the carriage again today. Look after the horses and take the rest of the day off. Settle down in your quarters.”

  Hamm nodded. “Thank you kindly, sir.” He touched his cap, and smiled at her.

  A moment later Sebastian was greeting Broadbent and Mrs. Bellamy, and introductions were made. Mrs. Bellamy was a slender, middle-aged woman with a kind face. She was dressed in a deep blue dress with a white collar and cuffs. Broadbent, a small, wiry-looking man, wore the typical butler’s uniform.

  “I’ll help Hamm with the luggage, sir, if you’ll excuse me. It won’t take long. Then I will be at your service.”

  Sebastian nodded and led Alexis into the house, explaining to Mrs. Bellamy, “I am going to show Miss Malvern around the house and the grounds. Then we might have something to eat, Mrs. Bellamy.”

  “Yes, sir. No problem at all. I have made several light dishes which would be appropriate at this hour. I shall be in the kitchen if you need me, Mr. Trevalian.” With a small nod, she disappeared down a corridor.

  Once they were alone, Alexis glanced around. They were still standing in the square front hall. It was painted a rich cream and was furnished with an antique mahogany carved-wood table and two small carved hall chairs to match. The wood floor was dark and highly polished and, as she looked beyond the entrance hall, she saw that the wood flooring continued on into a gallery. This was also painted cream to match the hall, and created a sense of space.

  Taking hold of her arm, Sebastian led her forward. “I had this gallery built by joining two small rooms together, so that it led right up to the barn. That was a separate building when I bought the farm. The barn is now part of the house, what I call the great room, a big living room, actually.”

  A moment later he opened the door that led her inside. Alexis caught her breath in surprise. It was indeed a great room, with a fireplace at each end and a wall of windows facing the gardens.

  The walls were painted the same cream, which made a wonderful backdrop for a collection of beautiful paintings.

  The dark wood floor was bare except for two cream rugs, placed in front of each fireplace. The room was empty except for several large cream sofas and comfortable armchairs arranged in groupings.

  “How wonderful!” she exclaimed as her eyes swept around the room. “And so unlike any room I’ve ever seen. No clutter, no plants, no photographs.”

  He laughed. “I like rooms which are spacious to look spacious. The staircase over there leads to the family quarters, bedrooms, a parlor, and bathrooms. And,” he went on, “this is my library.”

  He opened a door near the f
ireplace, and guided her into a medium-sized room with a huge window overlooking the blue garden. It was entirely paneled in light-colored wood, which she thought was pine. When she looked at the shelves she noticed how the books and objects of art had been mingled very effectively.

  “This is the room you built, isn’t it?” she asserted, turning around, smiling at him.

  “How did you guess?”

  “You indicated you had worked with wood and could build bookshelves, and voilà!” She waved her hand at the wall of shelves and saw the flat-topped writing desk with a chair, a sofa and two more chairs in a circle near the fireplace. “And it’s another lovely empty room. Minimalistic, I would say.”

  “The interiors are much nicer than you might expect when you first see the outside, aren’t they?”

  “They are indeed, and it makes me think about clearing out half the furniture in my own room at home.”

  Taking hold of her hand, Sebastian led her over to one of the French doors, which opened onto a long terrace and the garden.

  “Here it is,” he said as they went outside, waving his hand at the beds of flowers. “This is the part Reggie painted, and if we walk over there, you’ll see the miles of low-lying Marsh. Some of it is well below sea level. It makes it look as if the far-off sea is floating high up in the sky. All an illusion, of course.”

  Alexis understood now why he loved this part of Kent, where he had made a quiet haven for himself. And she was flattered he had wanted her to see it, to share it with him. He had made that patently clear in the last few days.

  She had set out on a path with him and knew she had no alternative but to take that walk, accept where it led. There was one certainty in her mind and heart. She loved this man to distraction and wanted to be with him. Deep within herself she realized they would become lovers in the next few days, and she wanted that. She was not bound by the conventions of the age in which she lived. She was an independent woman with her own fortune, and thankfully the freedom to do what she wanted. She was mistress of her fate.